Primroses
by arollercoasterthatonlygoesup
Summary: Peeta Mellark has a lot of thinking to do when he returns to District Twelve after the war, particularly about a certain girl.


"Can I get some breakfast?" Haymitch asks by way of hello.  
"I'm making eggs." I answer, biting back a sarcastic 'it's nice to see you, too, I do feel a bit less insane lately, thanks for asking'.  
He nods. "You look better."  
"So do you."  
"My alcohol survived." He explains. "Were you going to invite me inside, or are we eating on the porch?"  
"Sure." I step out of the way. "How do you like your eggs?"  
I hope this wasn't something I was supposed to know.  
"Doesn't matter." He answers.  
It's quiet, and I'm grateful for the excuse to have my back to him while I work. I wonder if he did this on purpose.  
I've handed him his eggs and started making mine when he finally speaks.  
"I'm raising geese."  
"Geese?" I ask.  
"Something to do, you can come by and see them sometime, if you'd like."  
"What do they eat?"  
"I get bags of food for them on the trains, but they like bread scraps."  
I nod.  
"The eggs are good."  
"Thanks. I haven't cooked since…" I don't finish my sentence. I don't have to. "The food there tasted like cardboard. It's good to have salt again."  
"I imagine."  
I know that he can't, but I don't tell him this.  
"You want anything to drink?"  
"No."  
I carry the plate to the table, and then, remembering at the last minute, I grab my coffee, something that a nurse gave me before I left to keep me up during monitoring. Did I like coffee before? I decide not to even ask. It doesn't matter.  
He's already almost done eating. A part of me wonders if he didn't come over to talk, if he really just came over for breakfast.  
"Are you going to see her?" he finally asks.  
"I don't know if I want to." I say. It's not a complete lie. I wanted to when I left. She was all I thought about on the train, (this excited the doctors endlessly, they threw around titles like 'biggest success' and congratulated each other when the news was conveyed. I pretended that the signal cut out and went to bed.), but the closer I got to Twelve, the more frustrated I got with the fact that I had no idea what I would even say. "At least not yet,"  
"Sure," Haymitch scoots away from the table, away from me, before he adds, "take your time. It's not like you loved her or anything." His voice is laced with sarcasm. I seem to remember this Haymitch.  
I open my mouth to protest, to ask why she doesn't come see me if she loved me back, but he continues.  
"Just don't wait too long, okay?" he suggests. "She's waiting for you."  
Then he's gone. So that must have been why he came over in the first place. Not for me, but for Katniss. He's picking her over me. Again.  
I have to hold onto the side of the table, while I try to figure out just how I feel about it.  
I have to remind myself. They told me that I asked him to. Everyone says so. Maybe even both times, but my head is swimming just like before they taught me how to look at everything objectively. I don't know how long I stay there before I sink into my chair, my hands still grasping the table. I force myself to take deep breaths, willing myself to be quiet before I realize that there's no point. Who's going to come for me now? Delly, who's still in the Capitol for schooling? Haymitch, who obviously doesn't care? Katniss, who probably isn't even actually waiting for me? My mother, who, from my fragmented memories, didn't even seem to like me in the first place, before twelve even burned? I run through the list in my mind, over and over, until I want to scream, and I let myself. I let myself scream until no sound comes out and my hands are sore from clutching the table. And even though I know they won't, nobody comes, and it guts me again.  
I know what I'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to make a list of everyone that cares about me, (a step I always skip), make a list of everyone that I care about, (again, always skipped), count to ten, take one of my pills, and call the doctor. But I don't. Instead, I force myself to stop crying and look out the window. It's obviously afternoon. How have I been here for so long?  
I go back to bed in a move that I'm sure would be deemed 'irresponsible and selfish' back in the hospital, and take one of the sleeping pills even though I can practically hear a nurse warning me that I need to deal with my problems before I sleep.  
I can't quite force myself to care.

It's dark when I wake up. I look out the window, trying to see if she has any lights on, but she doesn't, and it disappoints me in a way that I can't quite put my finger on.  
Haymitch's words bounce around in my head until I can't stand it anymore.  
"Fine," I say to nobody in particular. "I'll go see her."  
I make myself wait until it gets light out, and even then, I look for any possible reason to procrastinate. Finally, I make myself a promise, the last thing I get to do before I go over is try to find primroses. Either way, her house is the next stop. It feels stupid to have to order myself around like this, but it works. I find the primroses relatively easily, remembering a picture in a book my family had to base frosting flowers off of. I dig up as many as I can find, piling them into the wheelbarrow.  
Something feels different now that I'm armed with the flowers, more bright, somehow. I lay the shovel on top and push it back the way I came, up over the hill, around a puddle, and through the fence. It's a long walk on a normal day, but it seems to go more quickly today. I can't tell if it's because I'm excited or terrified. Possibly both, probably both.  
I pass Haymitch, who is in his yard feeding his geese, and give him a wave. He doesn't respond with much more than a nod of his head and a surprised look.  
I don't wait for her to come out before I start to work on softening the ground under the windows, I'm sure she'll hear me. I'm not out for more than ten minutes when she comes outside, running and gasping.  
She stops when she sees me, relief registering on her face.  
"You're back,"  
"Dr. Aurelius wouldn't let me leave the Capitol until yesterday," I explain. "By the way, he said to tell you he can't keep pretending he's treating you forever. You have to pick up the phone."  
I feel bad for adding this last part when I get the chance to examine her. It's obvious that she hasn't been doing much of anything. Her hair is matted into clumps, which I think she notices for the first time when she reaches up to mess with it.  
"What are you doing?" she asks, sounding a little bit defensive.  
"I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her," I say. "I thought we could plant them along the side of the house."  
She examines the bushes carefully, and then nods, turning to rush back into the house.  
I stare down at the flowers and something inside of me bubbles up, something just barely familiar. Hope.


End file.
